It was a mad half-hour. ’ ‘Don’t tell me,’ exploded his second-in-command. The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room. But all these hours, trying to teach the child wariness toward life, and the moment his back was turned, this! He was, perhaps, still dazed by the inner revelation—his own interest in Ruth. A child—as innocent as a child! Nothing about life; bemused by the fairy stories you writers call novels! I don't know what you have done; I don't care. "Let me see the earth thrown over her," implored Jack; "and take me where you please. " "Ship her back to her father"—sagely.
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